Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Gobs of fortuitudes

I can't pretend to fragment my ornate games anymore. Frankincense is not to be taken lightly with gravy boat replacement therapy. Man, all this talk of gravy makes me peckish. Could you interrogate the protractor angles for a pence or fifteen?

3 comments:

stappage said...

Uncle vicissitudes thinks that all hallows eve is insubordinate. Weep controllably to the destitute of selfish gain. Such as protractors, rhomboids, and filberts from long ago. I would like to thanks all my pseudopodians who supported the indecent claus which prohibited linguistic bloviated neophytes.

kevin the jerk said...

Don't pretend that you have eukaryotic cells on your lamellipodium. I can see right through your serous membrane. Or perhaps I underestimated the nature of your eleemosynary ways. You have an inimitable sense of lugubrious malapropism.

stappage said...

Perhaps my reticulohistiocytoma has caused glycolipid containing histiocytes. With this being the case, neoplastic face paint and capilaries from lagrange came by to put up the playground equipment.